


Soulsick

by centreoftheselights



Series: Soulsick [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Addiction Metaphor, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anxiety, Avoiding Love, Changing Your Mind, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dialogue Heavy, Established Logan Sanders/Roman Sanders/Patton Sanders, Falling In Love, Finding Family, Hurt/Comfort, Learning to trust, M/M, Nausea, Panic Attacks, Phone Calls & Telephones, Romantic Soulmates, Running Away, Scents & Smells, Sickfic, Soulmates, Swearing, Vomiting, Withdrawal, conflicting desires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 00:36:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17908706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centreoftheselights/pseuds/centreoftheselights
Summary: Virgil has met his soulmates, and he's certain they're better off without him. But the soulmate bond is more than fate - it's a chemical dependency, and in order to leave, Virgil must first make it through withdrawal.





	Soulsick

A long time ago, people believed that your soulmate was the person – or people – the universe had chosen to be your perfect partner. That you were all parts of the same soul, and that was why you felt the immediate tug towards them, why it was almost impossible to walk away.

Modern science had proven that all that was bullshit. It was just hormones. Chemical dependence began to form minutes after the first encounter with a genetic match, and only became more intense with prolonged exposure. And as with any addiction, trying to cut off the supply led to… side effects.

Symptoms of withdrawal – also called Soulbond Deficiency Syndrome, or 'soulsickness' – began with mood swings, headaches, irritability, difficulty concentrating. As the syndrome progressed, it would move on to vomiting, hallucinations, chronic pain, fatigue, muscle spasms. In the most extreme cases, the patient would die, normally from a sudden and complete loss of contact after an extended period of close proximity. The worst cases were typically caused by the soulmate's death.

Of course, not everyone died just because their soulmate had. For the 23% of the population who had multiple soulbonds, they had others to fall back on. Within a group, the bond worked all ways – provided you remained in regular contact with at least one of your soulmates, you wouldn't get sick.

And so, when Virgil decided to leave his soulmates behind for good, he told himself that at least he was only hurting himself.

It wouldn't be all that bad. They hadn't known each other long – the bond wasn't well-established. His symptoms would be relatively minor. And even if they were worse than expected, he would learn to live with it, whatever happened. So long as he kept his freedom, and kept the others away from him. Everything would turn out okay if he could just wait it out.

See, Virgil had two problems with the three men who were suddenly his soulmates.

Firstly, he didn't trust them. Didn't trust soulmates in general. Once you were bonded to someone, unable to leave, they could turn on you so easily and what could you do? There was no cure for soulsickness, and what treatment they _could_ give was generally withheld unless the doctor had proof of the soulmate's death or their written consent. What was the point in wasting medicine when everything could be fixed by simply returning to your soulmate? Society thought soulmates could do no wrong, and power like that was far too easy to abuse.

But maybe if he got to know his soulmates, he would find they were perfectly nice, decent, honest and trustworthy. In that case, Virgil's problem would be a whole lot worse – because see, the second thing Virgil didn't trust was himself. He was going to mess this up, sooner or later. Better to do it now, when they could all still walk away with minimal damage. Not years down the line, when his soulmates would be stuck with him for good.

Virgil had met Patton three times, perhaps five hours total spent together. He seemed cheerful, friendly, kind. He seemed like the kind of person that Virgil would destroy slowly, sapping all of that boundless energy, draining the smile away from his face millimetre by millimetre, until Patton woke up one day and realised he hadn't been happy in years.

Roman and Virgil had only met once – by accident, only days after Virgil and Patton had first run into each other. Roman was loud, confident, effortlessly charming. Everything Virgil wasn't. Would he still be charming behind closed doors? Would he turn on Virgil, shout at him for panicking, belittle him for everything he couldn't control about himself? Or was he the kind of genuinely nice person who would keep up the act, pretend he really didn't care about Virgil's deficiencies while he rolled his eyes behind Virgil's back?

And this third soulmate – Logan. Well, Virgil knew nothing about him. They'd never met. It would be less painful that way, not knowing. He could create whatever monster he wanted to in his mind, without being haunted like he was by Patton's smile or Roman's twinkling eyes. He could tell himself it was worth leaving everything he knew behind, moving to a new town and letting his own body turn against him.

It didn't matter what happened. This was for the best. He had to keep his heart – his _soul_ – safe.

 

Patton was concerned when Virgil didn't show up for their coffee date when he'd said he would. He waited around at the café for two hours, hoping Virgil would walk through the door. Tried texting, but got no response.

Two days later, his texts started getting 'number disconnected' messages. He went to Virgil's flat, but it was already too late. There was a 'To Let' sign in the window, and Virgil's belongings were gone.

That was when he started going frantic.

Roman fumed and ranted and stormed around their living room when Patton told them, full of anger that Virgil would put them through this. It was all too clear to the others that he was panicking underneath the rage, so they let him be.

And Logan –

Logan hadn't even met Virgil yet. Hadn't had a chance to fall in love with him. There was meant to be time for that later; they were taking it slow, trying not to overwhelm him.

Perhaps that distance was why Logan understood the most what Virgil might be afraid of. He knew how terrifying it was, to trust yourself so completely to total strangers. By the time he had realised what was happening to him, it had been too late. If he'd known earlier –

Well, he could see where Virgil was coming from, that's all.

But that wouldn't stop him from helping the others to formulate a plan.

 

Two weeks later found Virgil in a cramped motel room, his belongings relegated to a storage unit while he waited out the peak of his symptoms. He was feverish, drenched in sweat, half-delirious on the bed, barely able to drag himself to the bathroom and back. But he could get through this, he knew. If he could make it to a month, his body would readjust itself and the worst would be behind him. His symptoms would fade to a low ache, the occasional migraine, perhaps a dizzy spell or two.

But he had to make it through this first. Drifting in and out of consciousness, he could swear he could hear familiar voices, just outside the door. Hallucinations. They had to be. The absent soulmate was the most common subject of withdrawal hallucinations, right?

He didn't have the strength to investigate, anyway. He curled up on his side, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

When he woke up the next morning, Virgil felt a little better. He was feeling good about that, right up until he found the note slipped under his door.

“Virgil. Please call us.” And underneath, a phone number.

No signatures. He didn't need them though. He could _feel_ them, the slight trace of the hormones lingering in the air, soothing the churning in his stomach.

He hated how much his body was already responding to their presence. He was going to need to detox all over again.

Only first, he had some soulmates to tell to fuck off.

 

“How the fuck did you find me?”

He didn't bother with pleasantries, just spat it out as soon as someone answered the phone.

“Your landlord gave us the city you had asked your belongings sent to. We were simply fortunate to stop at the same motel as you; once we were in the vicinity, the pull of your distress was quite evident.”

Virgil didn't know the voice. It must have been Logan, then. That made this a little easier. He could hear Roman and Patton in the background though, trying to interject.

“Was disappearing not obvious enough for you three? I didn't want to be followed.”

“And yet, we wanted to follow you.”

He could barely hear Logan. Roman was yelling for him to give him the phone.

“Patton and Roman would like to talk to you,” Logan said, an edge of annoyance in his voice.

“And yet, I don't want to talk to them.”

And with that, Virgil hung up.

 

An hour later, he got a text.

“I am sending Patton and Roman home. You can contact me by phone any time you wish. I have a room at a different motel, so we should not encounter each other by accident.”

Ten minutes after that:

“You should know that I have no intention of returning home to them unless you are accompanying me.”

Well.

Holy shit.

 

“Blackmailing me is a low move, don't you think?”

“I'm not sure I understand.”

It was only when he heard the silence in the background that Virgil really believed Patton and Roman were gone. He was surprised they'd agreed to it, having tracked him this far.

“How did you get them to leave?”

“I insisted. I am self-employed; they have less flexibility. And you stated you had no interest in talking to them. It made sense for me to stay.”

“I didn't mean I was interested in talking to you instead!”

“And yet here you are, doing it.”

Virgil was quiet for a couple of seconds.

“So. You have my new number…”

“I haven't given it to them.”

“And they were fine with that? _Roman_ was fine with that?”

“He respected my wishes, and yours. He's… angry, about the situation, but he wouldn't break trust like that. Not with any of his soulmates.”

Virgil bit his lip. Okay then.

“But you're going to stay here and make yourself sick unless I come with you?”

“I apologise.” Virgil blinked in surprise at Logan's words. “I seem to have miscommunicated my tone. I wanted to state my intent clearly; however, you bear no responsibility for my actions. If I become soulsick, it will be the fault of no-one but myself.”

“Then why stay? We could have this conversation anywhere. You could be with them now.”

“You're soulsick, yes? What's it like?”

Virgil blinked again.

“It's… pretty rough. Things will probably be even worse for you.”

“That wasn't why I was asking,” Logan said. “You're suffering.”

“Yeah. So?”

“When you change your mind, I will be here to help.”

Virgil hung up again, and threw the phone across the room for good measure. It landed on the sofa with a soft 'thud'.

Virgil hugged his knees, and focussed on counting each breath.

 

After the panic attack passed, Virgil went to grab some food. His hands were shaking as he poured some juice, but he had an appetite again, so he made himself a sandwich before the nausea came back. By his reckoning, his close encounter had pushed back his progress about three days. The next week was going to be rough.

Unless –

See, no, this was exactly what Logan wanted. He was just trying to weaken Virgil's resolve, suck him back in. This was exactly the kind of behaviour Virgil didn't trust. He wasn't going to fall for it.

No matter how calming Logan's voice on the phone was.

 

“Fuck you.”

“What?”

It was 2am. Virgil had just thrown up his sandwich from earlier. The juice burned real bad coming back up.

“Fuck. You.”

“Virgil. It's the middle of the night.”

“I fucking – I had it all figured out. And then you had to show up and ruin everything.”

“I was sleeping.”

“And I don't – I don't know why you're doing this to me. I don't understand.”

“We'll talk in the morning.”

“Go to hell.”

“Goodnight, Virgil.”

 

Virgil woke up the next morning at eleven. The sun burned his eyes and he was aching all over and shivering.

He groaned as he remembered last night. He had tried to dial Logan back a couple more times, sat on the bathroom floor pissed at the whole world, but it had rung to voicemail. Logan had probably turned his phone off after being woken up by a sick, angry, not-quite-soulmate at two in the morning.

He had another text: “Call me when you're ready to talk.”

He dialled the number.

“…”

“Virgil?”

“Hey.”

“A greeting? Are you sure you're feeling quite well?”

“…No. I'm not.”

“I'm sorry, that was in poor taste.”

“…”

“You asked me why I was doing this, last night. Do you still want to know?”

Virgil didn't answer. He barely had the energy. But he didn't hang up either, and Logan kept talking.

“Did Patton ever tell you that when I first met Roman, I hated him?

“We were at school together, you see. We weren't friends, and by middle school I thought he was an arrogant idiot who was beneath my notice. But I couldn't seem to stay away from him. By the time anyone realised what was happening between us, the bond was well and truly set. We were told we would have to get to like each other, because we would be together for the rest of our lives.

“The thought horrified me. We were sixteen, high school sophomores. I had spent most of the last two years waiting desperately to be at college and away from people like Roman, and suddenly I was told I would never escape him. We fought, frequently. I got to know him with resentment, and was quietly appalled to find that we actually got on fairly well. It felt like a betrayal by my own biology.

“I never wanted to risk running away, I had too much I wanted to live for. But I do, at least a little, understand why you might want to. And I wanted to give you the same second chance that Roman gave me.”

“You're risking it now.” Virgil's voice was hoarse when he spoke again, and he told himself it was from the sickness, not any kind of emotion.

“Well, yes and no.” Logan chuckled. “Roman and Patton can visit me at weekends to prevent full withdrawal. I have no intention of dying here, no matter what you choose.”

“Good,” Virgil said instantly. “I'm not worth dying over.”

“That's not what Patton said.”

Virgil scoffed.

“Patton described you as 'precious', 'sweet', 'funny', 'lovely', 'wonderful'… he began to repeat himself after a while, but you get the idea. He's been frantic with worry at the thought of you soulsick without him.”

“… He doesn't know me very well.”

“No, but he's generally a good judge of character. And Roman, after your brief encounter, certainly seemed enamoured. Although most of his descriptions focussed on your ass, so –”

Virgil snorted with laughter, then slapped a hand over his mouth, embarrassed.

“He's been… frustrated, by your choice. He doesn't like to admit when he's afraid.”

Virgil took a deep breath.

“I don't want any of you afraid for me. I can ride this out. It'll get easier soon.”

“You're trying to prevent us from getting attached, yes? Emotionally, as well as biologically.”

There was nothing Virgil could say to that.

“I could tell you it's too late for that, but in truth I think we both know that wouldn't be entirely true. We could all be a lot more attached than we are already. However, I still don't understand what you think you're protecting us from.”

Everything was quiet for several long seconds.

“I can't. Not – not today.”

“That's fine. We can discuss something else.”

And they did. Virgil found himself calling Logan twice, three, four times a day for the next few days. They talked about nothing in particular, about Logan's work, about Virgil's hobbies. About the best treatments for soulsickness, which foods Virgil can keep down, the things he could do to distract himself without having to leave the motel room. Sometimes, when Virgil was too nauseous or dizzy or shaky to do anything else, he would leave the phone on speaker and just listen to Logan speak.

It was soothing, having someone there, just the other side of the phone. Logan talked to him without condescension or the edge of exhaustion in his voice that said Virgil had overstayed his welcome. But then again – he didn't know. Not really.

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if he did. Perhaps –

Virgil started dreaming of Logan. What he might look like, how it might feel to stand in the same room as him, and have his body cry out with how right it felt. He let himself imagine, just once, how they might live together, if he asked Logan to run away with him. Just the two of them.

But Logan would never say yes to that. Not when he had Patton and Roman to go back to. And Virgil –

Virgil couldn't –

 

Virgil felt as weak as a kitten. He was slumped on the sofa, eating crackers slowly as he listened to Logan talk about the article he had been writing that day. Even doing that much was making his muscles quiver with exhaustion. Crackers were just about the only food he could keep down. They were also the only food he had left, and he had no idea how he was going to manage to go buy more.

And there was a voice, creeping in the back of his mind – saying that Logan could help. Logan could bring him food. Logan could make this all go away, and maybe, just maybe, they could figure it out –

“Roman is visiting tomorrow.”

And then Virgil's stomach twisted like it was caught in a vice. He barely made it to the bathroom in time before the crackers came up again.

“Virgil? Are you alright?” Logan was asking when he made it back to the phone.

“Sorry. Stomach emergency.” Virgil stuttered out. “What were you saying?”

“Roman is going to be here tomorrow – he's arriving this evening, in fact. You're still welcome to call, but he's likely to ask to talk to you –”

“I'll be fine,” Virgil said mechanically.

It was just one day. One day without the sound of Logan's voice. He'd never spoken to the guy a week ago, so why did one day without him suddenly sound impossible?

“He isn't angry,” Logan reassured him, but Virgil couldn't believe that. Roman should be angry – _Logan_ should be angry. All three of them should hate him, why couldn't they just hate him and never want to see him again, that would be so much _easier_ –

“Virgil? Can you take some deep breaths for me?”

“I'm sorry – I can't – I – I –”

“Don't try and talk, just breathe. In… and out… In… and out…”

Logan talked him through breathing deeply for a couple of minutes. Then –

“Virgil. Have you ever had a panic attack before?”

Virgil couldn't help it. He snorted with laughter, although it was halfway to a sob.

“Yeah. Just about a thousand or so.”

“Do you have any medication –”

“I ran out,” he admitted. “Not that I'd be able to keep it down anyway, right?”

There was a long silence. Virgil wondered what Logan looked like right then, what expression he was wearing. Pity? Horror? Disgust?

“… Roman doesn't have to come visit,” Logan said.

“No, no, I'm not letting you get sick –”

“There are other options,” Logan insisted. “Patton could come instead, if that would be easier for you. Or…”

He left that sentence hanging there long enough for Virgil to know exactly what he was thinking. But he didn't say it, and Virgil was thankful for that.

He wasn't sure he was strong enough to say no any more.

“Can I say something?”

Virgil didn't speak, but Logan took his non-response as permission. He always seemed to know what Virgil meant, even in silence.

“When Patton first met you, I wanted to wait before being introduced. Not because I wasn't eager to meet you, but because I was afraid you would be overwhelmed. The three of us were already an established bond, and I know my personality can be… abrasive. I – We thought Patton would be the easiest of us to handle, at least at first.

“But if I'd known then what I know now… I think I would have insisted on meeting you straight away. Because I cannot imagine any scenario in which the two of us would not become friends. You seem to… understand me, in a way I'm not sure that Roman and Patton, for all the love I have for them, ever have. I wish we could have met in better circumstances.

“And perhaps, if we had, you would never have left, and you would not be suffering now, while I am unable to help you in the way you need.”

Virgil was crying, huge ugly sobs that tore through him and left his whole body shaking.

“No – Logan, no. It's not – you couldn't have fixed this, please don't blame yourself.”

“Why not?”

“Because _I break everything I touch_. You can't fix that, no-one can, I'm just – broken, I'm no good, and the best thing I can do is stay a long, long way away from you, away from everyone, where no-one can be caught in the fallout.”

“Why? Because you have an anxiety disorder?”

“I can't – I can't do people, I'm not _good_ for people. You don't – you think I'm useless cause I'm soulsick? Staying inside all day feeling miserable, that's just my M.O.! I can just barely scrape by on my own, but in a relationship? I'm nothing but a lead weight, and I won't drag you down with me, okay? You're too good for that.”

“Virgil. I have – there are times when I would have said the same about myself. So trust me when I say that you cannot make that choice for me, or Roman or Patton or anyone. We… no, _I_ care about you. We could never meet, and we would still be bonded. If we stopped speaking, I might not be soulsick, but I would be heartbroken.”

Virgil went very, very quiet.

“And… if something goes wrong,” he said, very quietly. “Later, when it's too late. What happens then?”

“Then we fix it, together. We take care of each other. Because whatever happens, I love you.”

Virgil took a long, shuddering breath. A part of him wanted to hang up the phone, to never call Logan again. To run away, and never look back, just like he always had before.

But there was something deeper – something _stronger_ inside of him now, and he couldn't ignore it any more.

“Logan.” It was barely a whisper. “I need you. Here.”

Logan was silent on the other end of the line for several long seconds.

“Are you – Virgil, are you absolutely sure? I don't want to – to pressure, or force you –”

“L. _Please_. Help me.”

“I'll be there in ten minutes.”

Eight minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

Virgil didn't even have to open it. His heart could feel who it was.

Logan wasn't what he was expecting. He had the same glasses as Patton – that was cute – and dark hair, messy like he'd been running his fingers through it. He was shorter than Virgil, which he somehow hadn't imagined.

Virgil didn't register much more than that as he fell into Logan's arms, every single limb shaking like a leaf.

“There you are,” he murmured into Logan's shoulder.

“Virgil – come on, let's get you on the couch, can you walk for me? Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere.”

Logan manoeuvred them so they were both on the settee, Virgil more or less curled up in his lap. The force of the bond was hitting him now, he didn't want to be apart so much as a centimetre. He couldn't do much more than hold onto Logan's shirt and cry, while Logan ran his fingers through Virgil's hair and talked softly about nothing much at all, reciting poetry and facts about space and whatever else came to mind.

 

The rest of the day was kind of fuzzy in Virgil's mind. Logan ordered take-out for them, Virgil's nausea finally subsiding into a deep, gnawing hunger. They'd gone to bed early, Virgil curled around Logan's back, his nose against Logan's neck.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so good.

So it was a surprise then, to wake up and know instantly that he was alone.

He was on his feet immediately, mind racing. Had Logan left him alone to suffer through withdrawal from scratch? He couldn't – not now he'd finally –

“Roman, I said _no_.”

Logan's voice came from just outside the door. Virgil quickly moved over to listen.

“I am not going to violate Virgil's trust. He will see you when he is ready. I know you want to take care of him, but the best way you can do that is by staying away, at least for now. At most, perhaps by doing some grocery shopping for us.”

Virgil held his breath.

“Ugh, fine! What do you need?”

Virgil smiled to himself. Then, before he could think too much about it, he cracked open the door.

“Are you two gonna stand in the corridor and argue, or do you want to come in?”

The two men in the corridor gaped at him. Roman recovered first.

“See!” he said to Logan. “I told you he'd want to see me!”

“Don't push it,” Virgil commented. “I had to deal with you sometime, right?”

“Only if you're ready,” Logan said. “You're still not fully recovered, if you want time –”

Virgil shrugged. “It's fine, really L. I'm as ready as I'm gonna be.”

Logan frowned, but he moved inside, letting Roman follow him through the door.

Logan pulled Virgil with him to the couch, arranging him with his head against Logan's shoulder.

“Skin contact will help you recover,” he said, by way of explanation.

Roman rolled his eyes.

“Lo loves being cuddled,” he said. “But he won't ever admit it.”

“I recognise that regular skin contact, particularly with soulbonded partners, has a wide range of physical and mental health benefits –”

“I see what you mean,” Virgil said.

Roman sat down on the chair opposite. He had looked for a second like he might ask to join them. Virgil wasn't sure how he felt about that.

“Okay, so…” Virgil took a deep breath. “Listen. I'm an asshole. I've ruined every relationship I've ever had, both romantic and platonic. I can barely hold down a job, and I take care of myself so badly it's a wonder I'm still alive. I have panic attacks at least once a month, and I will almost definitely at some point try to self-sabotage this relationship again. I'm not saying I don't want to get better, but I've tried that before, and we still wound up here.”

Roman blinked at him, looking shocked and, to Virgil's surprise, a little upset. Logan just held him tighter.

“And if you're okay with all that – if you'll have me… I want to come home with you guys.”

“Virge,” Logan said softly. “You don't have to – there's no need to rush, we can go at whatever pace makes you feel most comfortable.”

“Do you have any idea how you two look at each other?” Virgil asked him. “How you sound, when you say his name, or Patton's? I want that. If I'm done running from this, I'm _done_. I'm all in.”

“My car is parked out front,” Roman said with a grin. “We can leave immediately.”

Virgil's heart skipped a beat.

“I still need to check out of my motel!” Logan protested, jumping to his feet. “And – are you two going to be alright without me?”

“Does this mean I get to cuddle?” Roman looked hopeful.

“Ask him, not me,” Logan chided.

Roman stood and gave Virgil a dramatic bow, then kissed his hand.

“May I have this snuggle?”

“Dork.” Virgil rolled his eyes, motioning to the couch next to him. “Go, L. I'll be fine.”

Cuddling with Roman was a little strange. His body was shouting that this was perfect, that everything was alright when he was in this man's arms – but his mind knew better. He barely knew Roman, not really. He didn't love him like he did Logan, or even the beginnings-of-love he felt for Patton. They'd barely spoken.

But Virgil trusted him. And that was one hell of a start.

 

They were in the car headed home by lunchtime. It was a three hour drive, and Roman's playlist was mostly Disney songs. Virgil enjoyed singing along, Logan rolling eyes at him as he held Virgil's hand across the backseat.

When they walked up to the front door, Logan and Roman shared a look. Before Virgil could ask what they meant, Patton barrelled out of the house, colliding with him with enough force to knock them both over backwards, had Roman not caught him.

“I was so worried for you!” Patton cried. “Are you okay? Do you need tea? Lemon and honey? Aspirin?”

“Let him breathe, padre!”

“I, uh –” Virgil blushed. “I'm sorry. For putting you through all that.”

“That's not what you should be sorry for, Mister!” Patton put his hands on his hips.”I'm much more upset about what you put _yourself_ through! You – oh!”

Virgil took a shaky step forward, feeling a little lightheaded. Immediately, three sets of hands were steadying him, leading him inside to sit down.

“I can get you –” Patton started, but Virgil held up a hand.

“Um. Logan said. Touching helps?”

“Oh!” Patton blushed a little.”If you want – yeah, of course, I can –”

“Just get over here,” Logan said, affectionately exasperated.

Virgil wound up in the middle of the couch, sandwiched between Patton and Logan either side, with Roman sat on the floor, back against Virgil's legs.

It felt right. Like a new start.

It felt like maybe, with time and patience and a little luck… maybe this could be home.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on Discord! <https://discord.gg/SM7JVze>


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